


The Sweet Wine

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel and Haldir experience a small set back that brings them closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweet Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to weavinghugo for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for slashy_santa, for El who requested Glorfindel/Haldir, R-NC17. I would like a bit of angst but not too much; water – be it bathtub, waterfall, lake, ocean or the like; champagne and chocolate sauce. I don't want Haldir to be extremely arrogant or haughty; neither do I want Glorfindel to be that way. I would like a bit of a 'wounded' Haldir, sad, sorrowful, and Glorfindel brings him to life again, showing the wisdom of two lifetimes. I would like it to be loving, sensual and smokin'. LOL It MUST have a happy ending. And the sex can't be crude.
> 
> Baramenel = fiery firmament (composite word made from 'bara' and 'menel', both taken from Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary, Edition 1.6, Lexicon 0.993).
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Mithlond, 128 Fourth Age**

Círdan entered his large audience room frowning, and his when he raised his eyes to meet the elves awaiting him, the creases in his forehead grew deeper. Glorfindel sighed: bad news were obviously in the way.

Círdan cleared his throat. “Friends, honoured guests, we have had a few set backs. As you know, these days there are less and less of our kind on these shores and due to our own difficulties here at the Havens, we have to wait to have the ships to their maximum capacity before setting sail for Aman.”

Many in the assembly nodded or murmured in acknowledgement of what had been said.

Círdan proceeded. “We know that many of you are eager to return home while others are wanting to start their new lives. We want to help you the best we can, but there will be a delay.”

An ill-contained roar passed through the group; they were no more than thirty but they were loud enough for sixty. Glorfindel remained quiet, waiting for the rest of the news.

“As you know,” Círdan continued, “we have to water test each boat that is built. Unfortunately, the boat where you were supposed to leave in, has not passed our safety requirements. We took it out during last week's storm and the main mast broke. We will need at least two more months of work, one to find a good mast in the forests of Forlindon and plenty of time for the wood to dry adequately.”

Several protests were heard. Círdan listened intently, nodding now and then, making a few reassurances regarding the sustainment of the group during this period of wait.

When the crowd was starting to calm down, a voice came from behind. “Why don't we just sail in those smaller boats of yours? The bay has plenty of them...”

“These boats are not strong enough to withstand the voyage. They are small fishing and trading boats that belong to the families of Mithlond. I would not take the livelihood of my people any more than I would send you to your sure deaths.”

A new wave of questions threatened to drown Círdan, but Galdor came faithfully to aid him. Glorfindel discretely rose and left the room. He liked the Havens very much and did not mind the extended stay. He could understand the frustration of the other Elves, though. Many would see this time as an ordeal, as they had already made their peace with the need to say goodbye to their homes.

He crossed the entrance hall at swift pace and crossed the doors to the front patio. Círdan had set his home high up in a hill and the view was simply stunning. He kept his eyes on the azure stretched out before him as he crossed the patio heading for the stables. Asfaloth would enjoy a morning ride.

They wandered through the town, idly enjoying the morning sun, then set off to the hills. Asfaloth was growing old but he still enjoyed a good challenge now and then. Glorfindel let him pick the way and concentrated on the view of the sea over the dense forest of spruce and fir. They found a clearing in a high spot and stopped for a while, watching the gull's dancing below. The ground was too cold for lying in it, but Glorfindel found a nice sun-warmed rock. He drifted off for a few moments, but Asfaloth did not let him forget that lunch awaited them back in Círdan's home. Reluctantly, Glorfindel rose and stretched. He was in no hurry to return to the company of irate Elves.

They returned to Círdan's halls at a slow pace, Glorfindel reliving memories of his arrival at the Havens so many years before, and of the delightful times he had spent there. He wished he could have visited more often, but at least he would have time to enjoy this beauty before departing forever.

When he arrived, he tended to Asfaloth and tidied himself a bit before searching the dining room. Fortunately, they were still having the soup when he arrived. Galdor waved at him and he joined him and Círdan at the head of the table.

“Glorfindel! I thought that you had decided to swim all the way to Aman!” Círdan jested.

Glorfindel smiled. “I was tempted but the water is still too cold for my liking.”

Círdan laughed. “We need to toughen you up. Have you met Haldir?” he asked inclining his head to the elf on Galdor's right.

“We have not been formally introduced,” Glorfindel replied. Haldir lifted his eyes from his plate in mute acknowledgement.

“Well, then, Haldir, Glorfindel, Glorfindel, Haldir.”

Galdor and Glorfindel chuckled at Círdan's practical manner but Haldir only moved the corner of his mouth enough to suggest a smile.

“Haldir is from Lórien,” Círdan continued to Glorfindel. “He's here in his last official mission, escorting the party from Amon Lanc. I'm sure you'll have a lot to talk about, you warrior types.”

“You yourself are not too bad with a sword, if I recall correctly,” Glorfindel replied grinning.

Círdan waved a hand. “Only when strictly needed. I take no pleasure in it.”

The rest of the lunch was spent in idle banter. Now that the weight was off his shoulders, Círdan was once again the cheerful elf Glorfindel had always known. Haldir smiled politely now and then and only spoke when spoken to. He excused himself and left the table as soon as he finished his desert. Galdor, Glorfindel and Círdan stayed at the table deep in their conversation long after lunch was over, as it was the habit at the Havens. When a few more places had been cleared around them, Glorfindel dared an indiscrete question.

“What's his story?” he asked pointing with his chin to Haldir's empty seat.

Círdan's smiled faded into a sigh. “Another sad story, like so many we've seen around here.” He cast a quick glance towards Galdor who nodded. “His parents were slain somewhere in the Second Age.”

“When Nimloth was lost,” Galdor aided him. “They were in her party.”

“And both his brothers were slain in battle recently, when Celeborn and Galadriel attacked Dol-Guldur. As I said not a pretty story.” He turned to Galdor. “Maybe I was out of place by mentioning battles and swords...”

Galdor shrugged. “Maybe. But you made him smile at least a couple of times with your antics. That's more than he usually does in a full day.”

Círdan turned to Glorfindel. “So it is. Another victim of the shadow, in a way.”

Glorfindel nodded and held his peace on the matter.

* * *

Several days passed in the same fashion. Knowing the reason for Haldir's aloofness, Glorfindel felt more at ease in his presence. He tried to include him in the conversation at lunch time, and he thought that Haldir genuinely tried to participate, but somehow they never went past exchanging half-a-dozen sentences. It was as if Haldir's mantle of sadness kept him secluded in silence.

Glorfindel felt pity for him. He had the build and the stride of a warrior of many seasons and many battles but his eyes were those of a child, a lost, frightened child. After a few days, he decided to take him under his wing. Just as Haldir was leaving the table, Glorfindel invited him to stay longer. Haldir sat back with a timid smile and remained as quiet as before while Glorfindel, Círdan and Galdor chatted. Seeing that his invitation held little promise, Glorfindel opted for another approach.

Rubbing his tummy, he sighed. “Lunch was delicious, as always, Círdan. I should go for a ride to wear it off. I'm starting to grow fat.”

“My friend,” Círdan replied, “You have all that you need: the finest landscape in Middle-earth and a horse to make most envious.”

“True,” Glorfindel snorted at Círdan's lack of modesty. “But I would enjoy some company.”

As Glorfindel had imagined Círdan declined, under the pretext of having work to do and so did Galdor.

“Maybe Haldir would like to accompany you,” he suggested.

“I would enjoy that very much,” Glorfindel said before Haldir could try to wiggled his way out.

The three of them looked at him expectantly.

“All right,” Haldir said. “Let me just go and change to a more suited pair of leggings.”

“Great, great,” Círdan said. “You can take Galdor's horse. She's not Asfaloth but she is wondrous in her own right.”

As soon as Haldir left for his room, Círdan faced Glorfindel. “What's on your mind, old friend?” he asked in a careful tone.

“Nothing. He needs a little cheering up, I think. You said so yourself.”

“Be careful, that's all I say. He's an elf who has lost everything and everyone he has loved.”

“Círdan!” Glorfindel exclaimed. “I ask him out for a simple ride and you are already drawing who knows what dark scenarios! Give me a little credit! What do you think I will do to him?”

Galdor sat forward. “Glorfindel, please do not take offence. Haldir has been coming here as Galadriel's messenger for many years and we have grown fond of him. He may not look too amiable now but he is a good fellow and has a tender heart underneath all that reserve.”

“Listen,” Glorfindel started, but Haldir came through the door.

“I'm ready,” he announced.

Glorfindel cast a dark glance toward his friends and walked to the door. “We will continue this talk later,” he warned.

* * *

The afternoon went quietly. Glorfindel was pleased to notice Haldir was a good rider; usually the Lórien were not accustomed to the animals and many had never ridden. Glorfindel remembered what Galdor had said about Haldir being a messenger and he tried to extract a few words from Haldir about it. Keeping to his manner, Haldir replied in a low, pleasant tone but with as few words as possible. Glorfindel decided he would be the talkative one. He could excel in soliloquy if required, after all. Despite Haldir's reserved manner, they had a pleasant afternoon. As they rode back to Círdan's home, Glorfindel thought that he would like to repeat it. He asked Haldir for his company the next day as they dismounted and lead the animals to the stables. He could have sworn that a flash of a smile lit Haldir's face when he said 'yes'.

They went on for a few days like this. They enjoyed the life on the harbour and both had enough friends and acquaintances with whom to spend pleasant moments. On other occasions, they rode alone to the hills that sheltered Mithlond and sometimes even further, skipping lunch altogether. Haldir never wished to speak of his family or anything vaguely military, but Glorfindel managed to slowly extract him from his shell with other subjects. One that particularly fascinated Haldir was Glorfindel's memories of Aman, and what to expect there. Haldir was far older than Glorfindel had suspected at first and they took delight in discussing their different views of historical events.

One night, after a couple of weeks, Haldir stayed in Círdan's hall after dinner at Glorfindel's request. He usually retired early, keen on his solitude, but after that pleasant evening, he started spending more time with his hosts and new friend at night.

On one of these evenings, Haldir was even persuaded to tell a folk tale of Doriath to the children of the group, one that his mother had often told him in his childhood. Glorfindel watched enraptured from his seat. He sat on the rug near the fireplace with three elflings around him. The firelight warmed his pale hair and cast flattering shadows across his face, or maybe it was the rare open smile that made him look alive. Glorfindel had thought him rather plain when they had met, but now, when Haldir looked so alive, he found him quite attractive. The elflings laughed often and constantly interrupted Haldir's tale with questions and conjectures. Glorfindel quickly lost track of the story, but his eyes remained fixed on Haldir as he lost himself to idle thoughts. He barely noticed Galdor heavily dropping himself on the chair by his side. Only when his friend nudged him to accept a glass of brandy did he emerge from his reverie.

“We never did return to that conversation we were having a few days back,” Galdor said.

Glorfindel cast a quick glance towards Galdor. “Perhaps we shouldn't,” he warned.

“Glorfindel, we've known each other for a long time and in more ways than one. We both know that you can be extremely generous and the result is right before us: in two weeks, your friendship and your attentions have done more than almost a yen? of mourning to bring back Haldir from the dead.”

Glorfindel took his hand to his forehead and rubbed the lines that were starting to form there. “But you are going to tell me that I am also fickle, isn't that so? And that I am set in some evil plan to hurt Haldir's feelings.”

“No, you know I don't think that,” Galdor cut, grabbing Glorfindel's wrist in a friendly gesture, ignoring his yank. “Don't make this difficult. We both know that you are not the settling type, and that's what he needs: someone that will be there for him, not a casual fling.”

“Galdor, I really don't see how this is any of your concern,” Glorfindel replied coldly. He cast a last glance in Haldir's direction and left the hall.

He went to his room, but he was too irritated by Galdor's interference to be able to sleep. He paced idly until the fire needed stoking. Then he dropped his body to his chair and sat there, mercilessly twisting a lock of his hair in his fingers. A knock sounded on his door. Thinking that it was Galdor or Círdan ready for another round, he grudgingly said, “Come in.”

The door squeaked open but no steps resounded, making him look back. Haldir was peeking in. Glorfindel immediately rose. “Come in, come in,” he said, vaguely gesturing toward his own chair. He sat on the bed as Haldir crossed the room and sat.

“I just came to see if you were alright... you looked upset.”

Glorfindel shrugged. “I'm fine. Galdor and I are long-time friends and sometimes we overstep our boundaries, that is all. All will be well after a night's sleep.”

Haldir nodded and made to rise.

“No, no, stay a bit longer,” Glorfindel bid. “It is still early. I have some of the very last miruvor from Imladris.” He comically wiggled his eyebrows, extracting a snort from Haldir.

“All right.”

Glorfindel served then and sat down again. Haldir cast a few stealthy glances at the room, but stayed quiet.

“You were expecting more grandeur, perhaps?” Glorfindel asked.

Haldir nodded, taking a sip from the miruvor.

“Círdan is not one for unnecessary luxuries and personally I prefer to travel light,” Glorfindel explained. “The things that really matter can only be kept here.” He placed his hand over his heart.

Haldir closed his eyes in a gesture of pleasure as he took another sip. Suddenly the room seemed smaller. Glorfindel wondered if Haldir was deliberately seducing him or was merely enjoying the sensuous pleasure of the liqueur.

“You are very good with children,” Glorfindel remarked to alleviate the tension.

“I'm the eldest of three, so I had plenty of opportunities to practice elfling entertaining,” Haldir replied, eyes still shut.

Glorfindel could only focus on his lips, but he made an effort to hold the conversation. Despite the implications of Galdor's warnings, he was not entirely sure an advance on his part would be welcomed by Haldir.

“You never speak of them,” he said, taking another sip to dissolve the knot at the base of his throat.

Haldir looked at him, then the fire, blinking away the mist in his eyes. “I don't know what to say. Words don't do them justice.”

Glorfindel nodded, rising from the bed and sitting on the arm of Haldir's chair. He draped an arm around Haldir's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “I know what you mean, but you underestimate the power of words...”

Haldir seemed to shrink under his eyes. After a few moments, he said, “Well, it's getting late and I should leave you to your rest.” He tried to rise from the chair, but Glorfindel held him down.

“There's nothing wrong in expressing what you feel, you know? I have mourned a realm in my time. I mourn now the child of my best friend. The dead will come for us in the dark hours if we do not do them honour and remember them with love.”

“I remember them with love,” Haldir vaguely protested.

“But you do not share that love with anyone and so darkness falls upon you.”

Haldir remained quiet for long moments.

“Tell me about them,” Glorfindel pleaded, moving from the arm of the chair to a crouching position in front of Haldir. “Tell me their names, tell me who was the one who annoyed you the most, the one with whom you planned evil pranks. Tell me about the time you skipped the truth with your parents to protect one of them and about the time when they came to tell you of their first love.”

Haldir frowned, his eyes brilliant again. “I don't think I can,” he said in hushed voice.

“Tell me that, and I will tell you all that you want to know,” Glorfindel insisted.

Haldir's eyes darted from his lap to Glorfindel's. “What...”

“Haldir, you want to know how they are, what it is like in Mandos, when you will see them again. That's what everyone always wants to know. Now tell me.”

Haldir nodded. “All right. The youngest was named Rúmil. He was still a child when our parents were lost. Orophin, the middle one, was barely into his first century. Despite the age difference, Orophin and I were always close. We used to go to every dance and chase after the same lovers.” Haldir smiled. “But that was later. When Orophin was growing up, he used to run from home to find me in the training camp. My mother would come after him with a wooden spoon in her hand, but he would find the most incredible places to hide. He fell from a talan when he was fifteen, trying to escape her and broke his shoulder blade. That time they grounded me too.”

Sitting back in a more comfortable position, Glorfindel smiled at the thought of a restless elfling doing mischief. Haldir went on painting the portrait of their brothers through the night, eventually joining Glorfindel in the rug. Glorfindel kept their glasses full and the fire burning, listening carefully until he felt that he knew in fact Haldir's brothers. On a few occasions Haldir wiped a few wayward tears, embarrassed by his display of sentimentality, but Glorfindel never let him retreat back into his shell. Eventually Haldir's speech turned to a mumble punctuated by yawns. Glorfindel had also grown sleepy from the drinking and the long hours. Haldir eventually fell asleep leaning on the chair and Glorfindel on him. Morning found them wrapped in one another in front of a dead fire.

Haldir was the first to wake. He was carefully removing himself from Glorfindel's arms when he woke with a start.

“Good morning,” Glorfindel mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Damn, I have the mother of all hangovers,” he said as he stretched on the ground.

Haldir smiled. “Me too.”

Glorfindel looked at him. His eyes were rimmed with red but he looked lighter, almost happy.

“I need breakfast,” he said in lack of anything else. “Strong tea.”

Haldir nodded enthusiastically then winced and held his head to his hands, extracting a snort from Glorfindel.

“What do you put in that miruvor of yours?” Haldir asked with fake indignation.

“I would have to kill you if I told you,” Glorfindel replied in banter.

They rose from the ground, stiff and cold, and left for breakfast. Everybody had already left and Círdan's staff was already removing the dishes. They gulped down some bread with honey and some tea and then went for the baths. As much as it pained him, Glorfindel accepted that his heavy head needed cold water. Haldir followed his example, cursing the potent liquors of Imladris all the way. After the bath, they put on the same clothes and returned to the upper floor where their rooms where.

They stopped at Haldir's door, reluctant to part. Glorfindel, pragmatic as always, broke he embarrassing silence.

“I need to get some sleep and so do you. It's not as if we have more important things to do, anyway.”

Haldir nodded, placing his hand on the door knob.

“See you at lunch, then?” Glorfindel asked.

“Yes,” Haldir said with little conviction.

On an impulse, Glorfindel leaned in and pecked his lips. He left before Haldir could utter a single word.

* * *

Glorfindel arrived late for lunch. So late in fact that the fruits were being served. He quickly took his seat and looked around hoping that someone would take pity on him.

“What happened to you?” Círdan asked.

A girl came by and placed at plate of octopus stew in front of him, giving him an easy way out. “Nothing,” he said, immediately stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of dark, rich broth.

Galdor and Círdan exchanged a glance that did not go unnoticed by Glorfindel. He decided to ignore it, though.

“Haldir, where shall we go this afternoon,” he asked.

Haldir looked up to him, with a slightly confused expression.

“Actually I have invited Haldir to join me in a little expedition we are making to Baramenel,” Galdor stepped in.

“And I am not invited also?” Glorfindel asked, just a hint of menace in his tone.

A quick but embarrassing silence followed. Círdan was the first to collect himself.

“Of course you are, my friend. We just thought you had little interest considering that you have already been there on a couple of occasions, haven't you?”

“Well it's a lovely place, and I would love to see it again one last time,” Glorfindel pushed, casting a steely glance at Galdor, who stubbornly drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“Fine. We leave after lunch. Take clothing for two days and hurry, because we will wait for no one,” Galdor spat.

Círdan frowned at him but the lunch was finished in silence.

After lunch, Glorfindel prepared quickly as he had been instructed. In a remarkable display of temper, Galdor was already ordering the group's departure as Glorfindel reached the patio. He did not let his friend's crankiness stop him. This was far from the first time they had clashed against one another and in the end he was sure they would see eye to eye again. But for now he felt a wave of resentment that was hard to subdue.

They followed to the harbour and embarked in a small but sturdy skiff. They set sail to the mouth of the Lhûn, reaching it by sunset. Galdor's crew worked in perfect harmony under his barks, gracefully maneuvering the ship through the others until they had clear waters ahead.

Glorfindel sat by Haldir's side at the prow, a queasy silence floating between them. As soon as Galdor was freer from his commanding duties, Glorfindel rose, and sought him in uncertain paces.

He looked back to Haldir, who seemed completely absorbed in the experience of sailing.

“Trust me, will you,” he whispered fiercely to Galdor, gaining an irritated sigh.

“We have this saying, still waters run deep,” Galdor replied in the same tone. “It's not you that I don't trust. It's him. He'll never understand that you are not that type.”

Glorfindel squinted. “You don't know what type I am, Galdor.” Controlling his irritation he repeated, “just trust me.”

He returned to Haldir's side, still irritated. Taking a deep salty breath, he forced himself to relax.

“So what did they tell you about Baramenel?” he asked Haldir.

“Not much. Just that it's very pretty and that I should see it before leaving these shores. And that it has a wonderful dock where mighty sea woods can be found. Galdor is going there in search for a mast for us, apparently.”

Glorfindel snorted. “That's typical of the Falas people. Baramenel has a few other interesting features that you will enjoy, I'm sure. Despite being a small village, it's very cosmopolitan since it's from there and not Mithlond that most of the merchant fleet of the Falas operates. They have a few hidden treasures that are worth exploring.”

“Really? I wonder how come I was never sent there during my years as messenger for the Golden Woods...”

“It's not important from the political view point, and since they operate in monopoly for many merchandises it is not often that they allow foreigners there to snoop around.”

“But you were there...”

“I landed there,” Glorfindel corrected.

“Oh...” Haldir took his eyes form the sea for a second to scrutinize Glorfindel's face.

“I haven't forgotten that I owe you my part of the bargain,” Glorfindel said.

Haldir did not reply and Glorfindel understood that moment was not right. He proceeded describing the wonders of the marked of Baramenel.

“It sits right on the dock. You would imagine that it is dirty and chaotic, but you'll feel as if you've been transported to another world. There are rows of spice merchants, then the perfumes from the Harad, rich and inebriating. Then come the silks... one could be lost in their whirl of colour. They also have rare woods, fine leathers, silver garments from Dol Amroth, gold from the East, exotic birds, ivory, gems, fine glasses... if you would go to the market everyday in the week you'll always find something new.”

Haldir smiled. “I am but a simple marchwarden... It sounds too much for me.”

“You have eyes and nose and ears to enjoy beauty as everyone else,” Glorfindel objected. “and if you are feeling too self-conscious, they have this wonderful wine, light and bubbly, sweet or dry, depending on your tastes. They produce it in the western slopes of the lower Ered Luin, taking advantage of a warm wind that blows there to ripen the grapes.”

Haldir's smile turned into a grin. “I should be careful drinking around you, if I have learned a lesson last night,” he teased.

Glorfindel laughed. “Maybe.”

They spent the rest of the voyage speaking of Baramenel and other matters in amiable camaraderie. Glorfindel was happy that his rash actions in the morning had not put Haldir off, but the subject was never broached. Anyone listening to them would think that no thoughts of other than friendship had ever crossed their minds. On a few occasions Galdor joined their chat. His manner towards Glorfindel gradually warmed, but he kept some reserve.

They watched sundown from the prow of the boat, and soon after one of the sailors distributed some food.

“I thought the trip would be faster,” Haldir observed when Galdor joined them.

“The gulf of the Lhûn is wide and deep and this is a boat built for cargo not speed.”

Glorfindel gazed at the last purples fading to blue in the horizon. “It is odd, looking at it from here. I thought I would see this particular sunset only once more before I left.”

“Enjoy it,” Galdor replied. “I heard you telling Haldir about Baramenel before... you should be warned that is not nearly as glamorous as before. Our people dwindle too.”

The sadness in his voice was not missed by Glorfindel. “When will you ever sail West, old friend?”

“Not while there is still an elf on Middle-earth.”

Glorfindel nodded. At that moment the vigil called for Galdor. In the dusk Glorfindel and Haldir could barely discern more than a few lights in the coast, but Galdor's crew knew well those waters. They sailed for a while longer until they landed safely on Baramenel's dock. Galdor left instructions to his crew and left the boat, guiding Haldir and Glorfindel through the maze. Despite Galdor's claims, the market of Baramenel was still an impressive sight for Haldir. Galdor wanted to reach their inn quickly, but his plans were spoiled by his companions' fascination with their surroundings.

The sights and sounds and aromas were dazzling and often Glorfindel had to drag Haldir by an elbow. Other times he himself was pulled by an impatient Galdor. When they finally reached their destination, the night ran late and many merchants already prepared to close their stands. The innkeeper lead them to their rooms that shared a verandah to the sea. Galdor mumbled an ill-humoured goodnight, but Haldir and Glorfindel came out for a few moments despite the long journey, the night chill and their previous night. From the verandah they could see a gigantic yellow moon rising through the skies, spreading silver-gold in the cold waters below. The market kept its presence through faint scents and sounds, but a purer note slipped into the atmosphere.

Haldir contained a yawn. “I am sorry,” he said out of habit.

“I am tired too. Maybe we should retire, despite the beauty of the night,” Glorfindel replied.

Relinquishing the moon, Haldir faced him, “I never thanked you for last night. It might sound silly but I do feel so much better...”

“You are welcome.” Glorfindel reached out to touch a strand of Haldir's hair.

Haldir looked at his hand with some surprise. “Well, goodnight, then,” he said, not moving from his place.

“Goodnight,” Glorfindel replied, closing the space between them with a kiss.

Haldir drew away ever so slightly, but Glorfindel slid his hand to cup the base of his neck and hold him in place. The kiss grew bolder than he had intended, turning into a full exploration of each other's mouths. Glorfindel felt the heat of Haldir's body warming the early spring night around them. Galdor would certainly not approve but he did not need his blessing. All he needed at that moment was Haldir, strong and vulnerable, quiet and mysterious, sad and hopeful as he was.

He slipped one hand inside Haldir's tunic, exploring the small of his back, but to his disappointment, he broke the kiss.

“Goodnight, then,” Haldir said panting, slowly retreating into his room as if leaving from bear territory.

He closed the doors, never taking his eyes from Glorfindel. Only when he pulled the curtains did Glorfindel reply in a whisper, “Goodnight.”

* * *

They woke early with the sounds of port life. Galdor knocked on their doors before heading for breakfast, so the three of them broke fast together. Galdor had to resolve several little matters in the morning, before visiting the wood sellers so Glorfindel and Haldir were left free to wander about.

As they passed stand by stand, a plan started emerging in Glorfindel's mind. Surreptitiously, he acquired the goods he needed and arranged for their delivery while Haldir lost himself in wonder. By the time they were ready to meet Galdor for lunch, he had everything set and could barely contain his excitement.

“I have to ride out of the town a few miles north to visit the lumberer directly, since my contact here thought that I would only come next week. You can stay here or join me,” Galdor informed between spoonfuls of thick fish soup.

“Haldir has not seen the hot waters. I could show him those while you are away...” Glorfindel offered.

“That's a good idea. Are you up to it, Haldir?”

“Yes,” Haldir nodded hesitantly. “You had not mention these before...”

“I didn't think we'd have time to see them,” Glorfindel lied. He had in fact spent the whole morning preparing a visit there, and trying to think of a good way to avoid Galdor's company. It seemed the powers were in his favour. He repressed a smile.

“Well, that's settled, then,” Galdor said. “Do you need help in getting horses?”

“I think we'll be fine,” Glorfindel replied.

They finished lunch and Galdor went about his way.

“What are these 'hot waters'?” Haldir asked as they left the tavern. “Are they like those we had in Calas Galadhon?”

Glorfindel grinned, leading him through the maze. “More or less. But those were warmed by the power of Galadriel's will or magic, call it as you'd like and these are heated by the fires under the earth. They have a particular smell but are very enjoyable.”

Haldir nodded and followed him. They found the stalls easily enough. As they left, Glorfindel's eyes crossed with one of the boys in mute agreement.

They rode along the coast at a slow pace, leaving the village behind. Glorfindel had not been there in a lifetime but there was only one road to follow and the entrance to the waters was easily found by those who had seen it but once. On the right side of the road the trees gave way to grass so thick that no salty wind could burn, and then to high crags surrounded by a thin strip of barren yellowish soil. Wafts of poignant sulfurous air hit them now and again but neither complained. They dismounted and tied the horses and Glorfindel guided Haldir through the rocks, slowly descending into a cave. The path had clearly been smoothed by many feet along the years and torches lit the way after where daylight could reach them no more. The tunnel they followed opened into a large cave with a steaming pound in the middle where three elves lazily chatted.

“This is it?” Haldir asked.

“No, this is but the first cave, open to all public. We will find a cozier place.”

Glorfindel continued leading Haldir into the bosom of the earth. After some trial and error, Glrofindel happily exclaimed, “This is it.”

They entered a smaller room, lit by all sorts of candles. The fragrance of bees' wax and cinnamon obscured the sulfur. In the back of the room a small table laden with food lay between two long chairs covered with comfortable towels.

“It's magnificent,” Haldir whispered reverently.

Glorfindel placed his hand on Haldir's back and lightly pushed him in. “Let us enjoy it, then.”

He closed the curtain behind them and walked to the chair, where he proceeded to stripping. Haldir followed him with some reluctance. By the time he was taking off his boots, Glorfindel was already sitting with hot water up to his chin, purring with pleasure.

“This is even better than I remembered it,” he said as Haldir joined him with a hiss.

“It is lovely,” Haldir replied. “But it seems to me that we are not here as casually as you would have Galdor believe.”

Glorfindel grinned. “True. Whether or not he had to go up north I would have brought you to see this.” He pointed with his chin up where rock grew in delicate lacing. “It is a wonder of nature.”

Haldir smiled. “I should be flattered. I am,” he added as an afterthought.

Their feet brushed at the bottom of the pool, sending a jolt through Glorfindel. “I hope you can forgive me for my dishonesty,” he said moving closer to Haldir.

“You have been good company these last weeks. I would say friend, even, if not for...” Haldir's eyes dropped to Glorfindel's lips.

To Glorfindel's surprise, Haldir took the lead this time. He cupped Glorfindel's cheek with his hand and pulled him closer for a kiss that lowly turned into a heated embrace. Haldir straddled him, pinnig him to his rock seat. His hands ran to cup Haldir's buttocks, pulling him closer so that his hardness brushed against his own. Haldir undulated his hips in a slow teasing movement that matched the movement of his tongue in Glorfindel's lips.

Glorfindel embraced him by the waist, then sunk and hand in his hair, letting the kiss consume him. He had been lonely for long in a deserted Imladris, but until now he had not truly felt the toll.

“You make me feel alive,” Haldir whispered as he took his lips from Glorfindel's, leaving a trail of kisses across his cheek.

An indefinable pang threatened to crush Glorfindel's heart. He held Haldir tighter, stilling his movements.

“Galdor thinks that I will hurt you,” he whispered in warning. It had been a long time since he had felt so willing to truly become close to someone. He wanted Haldir but he was not ready for promises.

“I know. Galdor is not too subtle,” Haldir replied drawing back to face him. “I know this is not love and I do not ask for it. I want to be here, though, and I am old and able enough to decide for myself.”

“This is also love,” Glorfindel said staring into Haldir's eyes. “I care for you. I could fall for you. Let me give you what I can in this moment.”

Haldir leaned in to deeply kiss Glorfindel. A rustle of feet in the corridor outside made Haldir tense, but Glorfindel said, “Don't worry. No one comes in when the curtain's closed.”

Haldir repeated his gesture, first tenderly kissing Glorfindel's lips, playfully avoiding his attempts to deepen the kiss, then nipping on then. His hands ran up and down Glorfindel's chest, lining muscles, teasing nipples, exploring ever so close to his erection but never touching it. Impatient, Glorfindel grabbed his hand and wrapped it around his shaft, deepening the kiss. Haldir chuckled, letting his fingers play up and down, searching for the right stroke. Still kissing, Glorfindel whimpered when Haldir drove a particularly intense movement. He started pumping his hips up, begging for more, as his fingers sought to prepare Haldir, but he teased and teased never letting Glorfindel completely fullfil his wants. He finally took pity and lifted himself from the water, leaning on the rock ledge. Glorfindel wasted no time and took the invitation. Both let out a shuddering sigh as he sheathed himself and took command of their dance, racing to make them breathe heavily, grasp harder, beg. The water lapped softly around their thighs at first, but the ripples grew in size until they had no pattern. Glorfindel howled as release coursed through him. Haldir waited a moment, gently stroking himself, then moved away from Glorfindel.

Glorfindel opened his eyes surprised. “What are you doing?”

Haldir grinned. “Taking care of myself.”

Glorfindel kissed him and took his hands on his. “I think that's my job.”

He climbed the steps of the pool, taking Haldir by the hand and wrapped him in the thick fluffy towel, letting him sit in one of the long chairs. He straddled him and leant in for another kiss. “I bought something special for you at the market,” he said.

“What was it?” Haldir asked, trying to touch himself.

Glorfindel pinned his hands above his head. “You'll see...”

He turned to the table and picked up a small bowl. He dipped a finger in, extracting a thick dark brown substance. “Cocoa sweet, all the way from Harad. A small fortune, but completely worth it, my sweet.” He smeared the paste over Haldir's lips, forcing him to lick himself. His moans were truly debauched, sending tingles of arousal to Glorfindel's groin.

“More?” he asked.

Haldir's eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam. “Yes,” he said, moving his hips up.

Glorfindel coated his finger again, taking it to his lips. He leaned forward to let Haldir kiss the sweetness away, which he eagerly did. Glorfindel could not resist and smeared more on Haldir's chest, only to lick him clean and let him taste the sweet from his mouth.

“Tease,” Haldir moaned as again he reached for his groin only to have his hand repelled.

“I am not.” A serious expression overtook Glorfindel's grin. He dipped his finger again in the bowl and let Haldir suckle it clean. Then he took the rest and dripped it over his erection, making Haldir shiver in anticipation. Glorfindel moved down and proceeded to thoroughly pleasure Haldir. His lips opened, taking him deep in his mouth, only to retreat, drawing random patters with his tongue, then to swallow him again. Haldir grasped his hair hard, moaning in approval and Glorfindel did his best to give him pleasure with his mouth and his hands, until all of Haldir's body shivered under him, and he gasped and pumped and shouted as he came.

Slowly, Glorfindel stood up from his uncomfortable position and sat by Haldir's side. Haldir opened his arms, making room for him to lie by his side. Glorfindel took his own towel from the other chair and covered them.

“That was lovely,” Haldir said at last.

Glorfindel nodded sleepily. “Yes. And this is too.” He adjusted himself to Haldir.

“I thought you were playing coy before... or that you were not all that interested.”

Haldir chuckled. “I was interested. Just surprised. You didn't have to do all this.”

“It gave me pleasure.”

They rested quietly in each other's arms for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep. Despite the steam in the cave, they eventually became cold. They went to the water again and sat dreamingly embraced.

“You see this peace? This warmth, this mist?” Glorfindel asked. “This is how Mandos is: grey and warm and good. Never worry, they do not suffer.”

Haldir moved but Glorfindel held him tighter. “When we are there, we are serene, or at least we become so after a while.” He kissed Haldir's neck. “Do you believe me?”

Haldir turned to face him. “Yes.”

* * *

Time flies for those who are happy. So it was that the eight months so painfully endured by the departing group, seemed to vanish under the hands of two of them. Glorfindel could not recall exactly when Haldir had moved his things to his room. It had been shortly after their little trip, but long before Galdor stopped looking at him with suspicion. It did not matter now. Sometimes Haldir still yielded to sadness. Long habits are hard to break, after all. Glorfindel listened to his woes, then forced him to recall the joys in life. Galdor had been right in one thing: in his past he had been reluctant to tie himself to one lover. He did his best to avoid heartbreak but he refused to give himself, in fear that his death, irreversible this time, would shatter another. Now he saw how silly his reasoning had been, but he was happy because in the end he had found the right elf for him.

He mused on these thoughts and others less decorous as Haldir furiously searched for something through their joint packs.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, standing up with one hand on his back and a bottle in the other. “Remember our trip to Baramenel? I bought something special for you there at the last minute. I am not as wealthy as you so I had to set my eyes lower.”

Glorfindel opened one eye. “I can't believe it! You found it!”

“Yes. Let's just hope it is as good as you promised.”

Glorfindel grinned. “What kind did you buy?”

“The sweet one. To pay for that sweet cocoa of yours.” He popped the bottle open, and searched for glasses in the mess that was their room.

“It is bubbly, like you said. I wonder what they do to it.”

Glorfindel took a sip. “Wonderful. You were lucky in your buy. They often use this wine to celebrate,” he remarked, sneaking an arm around Haldir's waist. “What shall we celebrate?”

“Us?” Haldir proposed

“Excellent choice.” Glorfindel kissed him, tasting the light summery flavours in his tongue.

“And a new life ahead... together?” Haldir pressed hopeful, not bothering to hide his uncertainty.

Glorfindel kissed him again. “Absolutely. Sweet as this wine.”

Haldir smiled burying his face in Glorfindel's hair. “I love you.”

 

_Finis  
December 2006_


End file.
